


Irresponsibility Hurts

by Sniper_Blue



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18401459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sniper_Blue/pseuds/Sniper_Blue
Summary: Bad Things Happen BingoGunshot WoundKeith is shot in the desert during the time he was living by himself.





	Irresponsibility Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of real life events from where I grew up, though this does not result in death like that story does. Plus, I so did not grow up in a desert.

Keith stared at the device in his hands, trying to make sense of the readings it was gathering from his surroundings. Something was really off the charts, but he had no idea what. His sensors could not pinpoint the particulars of whatever it was and his computer could not make heads nor tails of it either. It was almost time to turn in for the day and he had gotten no closer to figuring out what he was seeing, which was nothing new as it had been happening for weeks at that point. With a frown, he shut the device off and logged his coordinates in his GPS so he could return the next day and continue further. As it was, he would not be getting home until a while after dark and sleep had become a luxury by that point.

He turned and began retracing his steps, moving through the vegetation confidently as he had done so frequently for the past couple of months. This was comforting, reminding him of his first years when he still had his father and they would go on long walks around their cabin. Before he could dive down that rabbit hole, something seared along his ribs and a gunshot echoed through the dusk.

“ Fuck!” he cursed, loudly enough that it carried for a fair distance. His hand clasped over his ribs, teeth bared in a snarl as he heard some scrambling and cursing. Damn amateur hunters that had no idea what they were doing and inflicted it on those around them. Of course, they would not even try to help whoever was injured. They would be brought up on charges if they did that and the police were called. This way they could not be identified. And, if a body was found, it would be quite difficult to link back to them. In a lot of ways, that ranked them lower than dirt at that point in his eyes.

It took hours to get back to his shack and, by then, he was exhausted, in pain, and fading fast. Everything hurt, any movement jarring the wound. The shakes had, thankfully, subsided pretty quickly so he had been able to drive the majority of the way, but it had taken so much longer because he could not pull his normal stunts. Plus, he had needed to take the time to tear his shirt into strips and wind them around his chest to help stop the bleeding. By then, he was shivering from the chill and stumbling due to exhaustion.

Falling down on the couch pulled painfully against the t-shirt strips and he could feel the wound reopen and warmth spreading down his side  again. The fabric was soaked through and he would probably need to soak in the tub to loosen the strips enough to take off. Some parts had surely clotted better than others or were not jarred quite as bad. The question was whether he had the energy to run the bath and then take care of himself. He would have to just hope he could make it through. There was nobody he could call and it had to be done.

He groaned as he pushed himself upright and toed off his boots, using the arm of the couch to help keep himself upright. The jeans he unbuttoned and pushed down until they fell down to pool around his feet, which he stepped out of and then toed his socks off - a frustrating process that took longer than he wished. At least the cabin was small, so he grabbed a bottle of whiskey on his way to the bathroom and settled into the tub before he turned the water on. The longest part of the process was, thankfully, the filling of the tub and, soon enough, he was letting the tinted water drain. There was a small pile of fabric on the floor and he carefully dried off before sitting on the edge of the tub and finally putting a true bandage on the wound and could tell that something in there was broken to some degree. That was going to put a damper on his explorations.


End file.
